


It's fine. He has a plan.

by dazzletwig



Series: A comfortable pile of tropes [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Relationships, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hanahaki Disease, Jealousy, M/M, Pining, Real Adults TM (but are they really? no), and they were ROOMMATES, asahi actually appears in one scene but he isn't named, matsuhana are still memes, only kind of though, schools are now companies, still volleyball nerds tho, working class AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:15:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24117118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazzletwig/pseuds/dazzletwig
Summary: “This one first,” Oikawa jabs at page 3, top bullet point.Hanamaki skims over it. “You can't be serious.”Oikawa nods.“You are… a child.”Oikawa grins widely.“I’m looking forward to your support.”Life is good. Oikawa is killing it at his job in Tokyo, gets to play volleyball with friends after work, and has even just moved in with Iwaizumi. So what if he's been pining for years and just now contracted some weird... flower-cough-thing? There are, what, 28 days at least to figure it out.1. Win Iwaizumi's heart. 2. Get that sweet, sweet, reciprocated love. 3. ???? 4. Profit.In which Hanahaki is for defeatists, and Oikawa has everything under control (but also the mental maturity of a 12-year-old).
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Series: A comfortable pile of tropes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1766848
Comments: 50
Kudos: 257
Collections: My favorite haikyuu fics





	1. Day 0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Fine, confessing is hard. But Hanahaki isn’t scary. Oikawa has pined after Iwaizumi for twenty-plus years, probably; a few flowers won't scare him this late in the game! But it might get worse later, so fine. It's a push—no, a gentle nudge—to action, then. Oikawa can work with that._  
>  In which Oikawa knows what he's doing, thank you very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ~~the reason Oikawa's voice has the mentality of a middle schooler is because my brain never evolved beyond that either~~  
>  Note: this is a workplace AU! Our beloved schools are now Big Corporations (yikes?). Think of Haikyuu but shifted 8-10 years later in everyone's lives.
> 
> Please come say hi to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/DazzleTwig)!
> 
> Update: A section originally drafted for chapter 2 has been added here. It's after the last line break and is rather short (roll over for summary).

“Iwa-cha— _cough_ —”

“Oikawa, you better not be catching a cold. You shouldn’t have stayed up last night; don’t ditch me just as we have to start unpacking.” 

Oikawa clears his throat, thumping his chest a few times.

“Ah, Iwa-chan, always so worried! You’re going to get wrinkles, and at this rate, you’ll never get a cute office girlfriend~” he teases, poking Iwaizumi between the eyebrows. This earns himself a scoff as they step into the apartment.

He tests his throat, tapping his neck a little. Hm, it’s somewhat past the tail end of flu season. The feeling of something caught there, small as it is, persists.

“Well, it’s just an itch! Jeez, Iwa-chan, mother hen!” 

Iwaizumi turns around slowly in the entrance, his face the very picture of a hanging threat, an unfinished _I swear to god, if you say that again…_

“Nope, no, I take it back! Sorry!” Oikawa quickly follows up.

Oikawa watches as the death glare from Iwaizumi fades away into one of mild irritation mixed with concern. 

“Right. Drink some honey tea, or something. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Iwaizumi says as he gives one final pointed look over his shoulder before shuffling into his own room at the end of the hallway.

“Bye-bye, Iwa-chan! Thanks for worrying, I feel so loved!” Oikawa sing-songs after his friend’s retreating figure. This only earns him a dismissive hand gesture as Iwaizumi disappears into a doorway.

Oikawa was transferred to the Tokyo headquarters of Seijoh Advertising a year ago. For his first year in the big city, he tried to live up the bachelor life. The freedom felt good at first... but, one can only take so many cup noodles and convenience store box lunches. As work picked up, he had to spend more and more of his day in overtime, and returning to an empty, dark apartment began to feel lonelier than ever. 

When Iwaizumi suggested moving in together and splitting rent, it was a no-brainer.

Taking a peek at Iwaizumi’s room again, he sees the door ajar and hears the sound of boxes being cut open and moved around. He glances at his own room forlornly. Honestly, he doesn’t need more than a workbench for his computer and notes. And maybe the bed, too.

Suddenly, the itch rises in his throat again.

It’s possible he’s getting sick. He hadn’t exactly slept much in the last few weeks, but it was a busy time. If he catches a cold, his mom (and his fake Iwa-mom) won't be overjoyed.

He hacks into his hand and slides into the bathroom to cough into the sink. The pressure forces his eyes shut. His throat begins to feel raw with the pressure of something rising past his Adam’s apple—

Oikawa blinks his eyes open again, surprised at the dampness on his cheeks, and looks downwards to see what he spat out. 

There in the sink is… a scrap of cloth? Tissue? Coated in spit are two thin, white scraps the length of his thumbnail. 

He squints at them a little bit, a memory tickling the back of his mind. When had he eaten something like this? Did he swallow the paper on a meat bun? Did he even have anything white to eat recently? It’s kind of gross, so he doesn’t want to touch it, but... 

Suddenly, an idea surfaces. He looks up a picture of a juice box he saw Hanamaki drinking the other day.

Chrysanthemum tea. Unlike the flower on the drink, the… things in the sink are white. But, they’re undeniably white chrysanthemum petals.

A feeling of dread begins to flow over him, and in a last, desperate effort he racks his memory over the last few days. Did he drink or eat anything with the offending ingredient? Coming up short, he takes a deep breath and bites the bullet.

He searches up “Hanahaki Disease.”

* * *

“No, yeah, it’s a hundred percent real,” Suga deadpans through the phone. It’s 1 am, and he does not sound happy about the prospect of waking up in less than six hours. He duly reminds Oikawa of this.

“Refreshing-kuun, you’re supposed to be the realistic one between us—”

“I absolutely am. I wasn’t the one with the alien phase.”

“I know you like to read those online forum horror stories!”

A groan tumbles out of the cell phone speaker. “That’s true. Alright. I can see why you might be skeptical.” A pause. “But I’m not talking about strangers shouting into the internet. Dubious personal accounts aside, you can look up larger hospitals in the city. They offer treatments for it.”

“Right. This emotion-cancelling surgery.”

“Don’t get salty with me, Oikawa, I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s very real.” Suga sighs into the phone. “Look, I know you aren’t calling me because you’re suddenly interested in your supposed fangirls’ gossip or something—”

“I got five girls’ numbers the one time I visited your studio, you saw me.”

“—so I’m going to ask straight out. Are you coughing up flowers?”

Another, longer, pause.

“Oikawa, you better not hang up.”

“Yeah, yeah—I—” Oikawa breathes before responding, “Yes? No? Maybe?”

“Okay, alright.” A surprisingly tense energy runs through Suga’s voice. “You should… you can’t go through this alone. I can help you figure it out."

“God, that’s embarrassing.” 

“Shut your fragile masculinity for just a moment!”

“I object to that!”

A chuckle on the other end of the line. “Fine. So just shut your trap, then. Look, I’m glad you called me, so you’re gonna be cute for once in your life and actually listen to what I say— “

“Augh!”

“—you going to either confess to Iwaizumi-san now, or you’re going to book the surgery ASAP.”

It takes a second for the words to register.

“Wait—” 

“Am I wrong?” The smug tone on the other end of the line belies any hint of doubt his friend might possibly have. 

“... No,” Oikawa mutters. “Is it that urgent?”

Suga’s tone is softer as he replies. “It’s… better to seize the moment. Or, simply put, the surgery is a lot safer, and with a far smaller likelihood of complications, the earlier you get it.”

“Alright. I’ll think about it.”

“You do that. It’s late, but we should talk again soon. I know you tend to go off on your own, but… please keep in touch.”

“Wow, you’re almost as bad as Iwa-chan.”

“Good night!”

* * *

That night, as Oikawa shuts off the light and crawls into his futon, he makes the mistake of looking up images of the disease on his phone.

The x-rays look unbelievable and painful. He scrolls past some of the more graphic photos of the coughed-up flowers, but notes how varied they are. He sees messes of unmistakable rose petals, small, colourful buds, and even pieces of leaves. 

Does his own flower have some sort of meaning? He pulls over his laptop, squinting through the bright backlight. He punches "white chrysanthemum" and "hanakotoba—flower language" into the search bar. 

`[Chrysanthemum: friendship. White chrysanthemum: truth]`

Well. He didn’t need the smug, outdated blog to rub salt in his wounds. 

He scrolls a little further, peeking at the clock. It was already 2:30 am, damn. He remembers the urgency in Suga’s voice earlier. Was time such a problem? He hasn’t even felt the need to cough since that first itch a few hours ago. 

Oikawa pulls out his laptop, looking up Hanahaki records again. It seems like it lasts a month for most, however anecdotal the data was. Despite himself, his work calendar flashes in his mind. A month was the timeline for one of the shorter projects he was in charge of. The local mall poster campaign for that new sportswear brand? The new kid with the scallion hair, what was his name? He seemed eager to join the project. If he paired him up with Matsukawa, then wrapped up the new employee onboarding two days early—

Oikawa rubs his eyes, refocusing on the task at hand. Hanahaki, schmanahaki—it doesn’t have to be a disease: it’s just another deadline.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, it’s not actually that bad, is it? He’s not hopeless, unable to act. Like Suga said, there are options. He thinks about confessing, and is immediately brought back to a warm spring evening, years ago.

_“What are you looking at, Trashykawa?”_

_“Iwa-chaan, so mean, and on the day of our graduation, too!”_

_“That’s why I’m saying it. C'mon, we were going to meet everyone at the ice cream place. You’re lagging behind.”_

_Oikawa turns away from gazing at the school to face Iwaizumi, then looks back to the old building._

_“Are you going to miss it? High school?”_

_“Hell no.” Iwaizumi chuckles. “This dingy old place? There wasn’t even a proper volleyball club.”_

_Oikawa laughed then, a small, tight chuckle, but genuine nonetheless. “True. I’m looking forward to finally playing in a big gym. Maybe even a stadium.”_

_“I bet my university has a bigger gym than yours.”_

_“Eh? You wanna bet? I heard we beat you in the last inter-college preliminaries. Size isn’t everything, Iwa-chan!”_

_“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” Iwaizumi says almost fully with a straight face. His expression cracks, giving into a snort of laughter at the end._

_Oikawa laughs too, and starts walking away from the gate with Iwaizumi. A moment of companionable silence passes before he softly adds,_

_“You should still come see it, though.”_

_“Hm?” Iwaizumi’s eyes flicker to Oikawa._

_“The gym. See our school’s gym, and the school, and… and visit me. If you try out for the team, we might get to play each other, or something.”_

_“I mean, yeah. I’ll definitely try out, and I’ll definitely visit. You come visit me, too. Graduation isn’t goodbye forever.”_

_“It is for a lot of people.” Oikawa looks at Iwaizumi now, and stops walking. He takes a deep breath. It’s now or never, he tells himself. If he never sees Iwaizumi again, if he never gets the chance again—he needs to say it, push those words past his lips—_

_But they don’t come out. He bites back his sigh, pulling his mouth into a wide smile instead._

_“I mean, maybe you’ll manage to get a friend or two. Without my dazzling presence around, maybe even a cute girlfriend... " Oikawa falters a little. “But… don’t forget about me, alright?”_

_Iwaizumi is giving him an unreadable look. A few seconds pass before he huffs a quick breath and begins walking away again._

_“Shittykawa, who could forget about you.”_

Oikawa is shot back out of his daydream by a text.

`[2:34am] **Iwa-chan:** You better be asleep. We’re getting coffee tmr 9am w/ new hire, right?`

He can’t help but smile as he responds. 

`[2:34am] **Trashkawa:** aren’t you being a hypocrite, iwa-chan? are you looking up dirty things this late at night?`

`[2:34am] **Iwa-chan:** I’m leaving w/o u tmr`

Oikawa laughs as he snuggles into the futon. Somehow, history manages to repeat itself in the strangest ways. 

Fine, confessing is hard. But Hanahaki isn’t scary. He's pined after Iwaizumi for twenty-plus years, probably; a few flowers won't scare him this late in the game! But it might get worse later, so fine. It's a push—no, a gentle nudge—to action, then. Oikawa can work with that.

He'll make a plan.

* * *

“Actually, I might be a genius after all,” Oikawa emphasizes as he unwraps the custard bread he bought.

The two men sitting opposite to him level him matching unimpressed stares.

“So… why are we here, again?” Hanamaki is the first to speak. He pops open the lid of his coffee.

“Work, of course~” Oikawa lilts, motioning towards the door of the cafe they're in, indicating the busy mall outside. Posters line the walls of Nekoma Station Mall, barely visible behind the steady stream of foot traffic. “Market research and whatnot!”

“I’m here because you’re treating us,” Matsukawa joins in, taking a big bite of his own custard dessert. His bushy eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Mmph, these are new, right? They’re delicious.”

“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” Hanamaki mutters, eyeing Matsukawa before turning back to Oikawa.

“But what I said before. I’m really good at my job, you know.” 

Matsukawa and Hanamaki return to their previous deadpan expressions. This turns out to be a rather entertaining look on Matsukawa, whose cheeks are still full of pastry.

“And I’m tall, popular, good at speaking. I’m a people person!” Oikawa leans back, taking a bite of his own custard bread. It actually was delicious. “So, if anyone can win over a heart in a 4-week period, I could.”

His two friends look surprised. 

“A 4-week period? Did you finally grow a pair and decide to—” Hanamaki is quickly shut up by an elbow to his stomach from Matsukawa.

“Well, what I mean is that it’s a reasonable goal with a reasonable timeframe, and I have the necessary tools at my disposal to reach it.”

Hanamaki eyes him suspiciously. “Tools?”

Oikawa grins, pulling out a folder filled with papers. The first page was a neatly printed schedule, annotated and colour-coded.

“See, here. I think it would be best to use three main pushes, with enough time for fallbacks in between.”

“Is… is this why you planned a team-bonding event for next weekend?” Matsukawa squints at the small text. “The pool? Did you just use company funding to—”

“And, I have a few trustworthy connections that could help me set up some of the more elaborate situations.”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa are remarkably synchronized today, Oikawa notes, as the same vaguely tired look of unease settles over them both.

“This one first,” Oikawa jabs at page 3, top bullet point.

Hanamaki skims over it. “Are you serious.”

Oikawa nods.

“You are… a child.”

Oikawa grins widely.

“I’m looking forward to your support.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's the first chapter!
> 
> Next time: volleyball and 50% off
> 
> This was originally going to be canon-compliant, set in their second year of high school or something, but I had a hard time motivating a lot of what Oikawa was doing. Like, he's in love with volleyball. Even if he's love with someone too, I can't imagine him wasting any time on pining? Especially if it puts his athletic career at risk. In my head, he'd probably confess on day one, plot out how to recover any volleyball-critical memories, and just get the surgery to lose as little time on the court as possible.
> 
> This is fine but not what I wanted to write, lmao let me indulge myself
> 
> So, I made him a slightly irresponsible adult who is passionate about work (and Iwa-chan!) and has a tendency to overwork himself. Overall it was surprisingly easy to shift universes.
> 
> School appearances:  
> Seijoh Advertising  
> Karasuno Animation Studios  
> 


	2. Day 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Right… you want to escape the childhood-friend zone.”  
>  “Somehow you gotta up your game. You have to be more… special?”  
> “I am special to him!” Oikawa splutters.  
> “We know, we know, but like… anything new? Anything he’s not used to?”  
> “Anything to give him that doki-doki,” Matsukawa deadpans._  
> In which they go to the pool, and Oikawa’s mentality still hasn’t graduated middle school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's that cameo?!
> 
> also how... how do you punctuate "childhood friend zone"
> 
> Note from upload: A scene originally drafted to be in this chapter was moved into Chapter 1. If you haven't read it yet, you can just read after the last line break of the previous chapter or roll over for summary.

“Daichi-san, nice serve!” 

The volleyball whizzes past the net, just barely grazing the top as it falls towards Kindaichi, who fumbles a bit before bumping the ball up.

“Nice receive, Kindaichi!” Oikawa calls as he slips through the sand of the outdoor court. He volleys the ball to the other newcomer, a sullen-looking recent grad named Kunimi, who runs up and efficiently spikes the ball to the other side of the court. 

The ball lands with a satisfying _poof_ into the sand. 

There are 11 of them there today, one short of a full match. From the larger group of six from Seijoh Advertising, Hanamaki was sitting out for the friendly 5v5 to let the first-years play. Even Suga had mentioned that Karasuno Animation Studios was bringing in some new blood to their weekly games.

They're all standing in the park behind their two company buildings. It's a uniquely well-equipped one. The sand pit outfitted with a volleyball net has proven to be a lucky find, and it became the birthplace of some unlikely new friendships. Oikawa looked forward to their scrims all week.

“Manag—Oikawa-senpai, sorry! That was a messy receive!” It’s Kindaichi, who has walked over. He bows to Oikawa, who wonders if the spikes in his hair would be able to puncture the ball.

“Ah, don’t worry about it! I set it rather well afterwards, because of course I did." Oikawa smirks, then turns to call over to the other side, “Daichi, want to take a water break?” Without waiting for a response, he plops cross-legged into the sand and turns to Iwaizumi. 

“Iwa-chaan, get me my water~” Oikawa whines as he makes grabby hands towards the post of the net. A pile of duffel bags, water bottles, and jackets sit there haphazardly.

Iwaizumi shoots him a familiar angry face before fetching the water anyway. The remaining Seijoh players sit down near Oikawa in a small circle.

“Ahh, but I’m actually so glad that so many of the new hires played volleyball in college. You know, both Iwa-chan and I played too! We even faced each other several times, although my school’s team wiped the floor with hi— OW!”

Oikawa is cut off with a sharp _thunk_ to his upper back, the hard plastic bottle dropping to the sand behind him.

Oikawa whips around to face Iwaizumi. “That hurt, Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi sits down in the circle, passing out water to the others, letting out a _tsk_. “Damn, missed your head.”

Oikawa gasps. “So mean!” As he inhales, he feels a familiar tickle in his throat. _Not now,_ he wills his body. He drinks his water, letting the cool sensation soothe the inside of his throat.

And miraculously, the itching sensation fades away. He doesn't relax, though, still prepared to sprint to the nearest trash can.

Hanamaki thanks Iwaizumi for his water before taking a swig. “Kindaichi-kun, hope you’re holding up alright with the surveys? This one’s a mean mentor to work under,” he jerks a finger over at Matsukawa. 

Kindaichi perks up before looking at Matsukawa. “Yes! Actually, I have to thank Manag—Oikawa-senpai for his notes from Nekoma Mall. They were very detailed and have really helped me develop the surveying plan for the newer shops in—”

“Ara, ara, stop it with the work talk,” Oikawa interrupts, leaning back onto one hand and waving the other in front of Kindaichi’s face.

Iwaizumi lets out a small chuckle. The startled looks from Kindaichi and Kunimi—well, more of a slight turn of head from Kunimi—don't go unnoticed by Oikawa. Neither does the soft “You’re one to talk,” he hears his childhood friend mutter. 

Oikawa beams, leaning over to very gently, very subtly, very, very, naturally hang onto Iwaizumi’s shoulders from the side. 

“Yes, yes, he laughs sometimes, too,” Oikawa sings. He shifts to make eye contact with Hanamaki, winking for good measure. Hanamaki seems to get the message, and gives an inaudible sigh.

“At you,” Iwaizumi retorts flatly as he chugs his water. “Hm. Thought there was more in here.”

“Again! So mean!” Oikawa turns towards Hanamaki again, maintaining eye contact while tilting his head towards Iwaizumi. 

Iwaizumi shakes his bottle a few times. “Seems like it’s empty. Give me yours, Oikawa.”

Oikawa gleefully hands his own bottle, precisely half-full, to Iwaizumi.

Hanamaki, by now, looks ready to bury his face in his hands, but instead turns towards Iwaizumi. He begins in what might be the most monotone voice he can manage, “Iwaizumi, isn’t that an indi—”

“Indirect kiss? Lol.” 

The whole group whips around to face the taciturn Kunimi, not sure if the lethargic man had actually said something (did he say “lol”? Out loud?), or if the sound was a group auditory hallucination.

Matsukawa is the first to snigger, and Oikawa begins to blush furiously.

“What—what, are you—” Oikawa splutters, finding himself wrong-footed. He's unsure how to react! It was Iwaizumi who was supposed to feel embarrassed, to notice him, this was supposed to be the first nudge in a series of escalating heart-racing moments—

“Ah, I think I finished this, too.”

Oikawa pauses his mental flailing to look disbelievingly at Iwaizumi.

“That was my water!”

“Hah? You offered it to me.”

“Not all of it! Bully—”

“Oy, are you guys done?” a voice calls over from the other side of the net. A somewhat frazzled Daichi is holding onto the collar of a small redhead who seems to be giving it his best effort to launch himself forwards. Across from him, Oikawa recognizes Kageyama, a black-haired young man from his alma mater, who is in turn being restrained by Suga.

Thankful for the distraction, Oikawa pulls himself to his feet. “What’s going on? Should we start another set?”

“If we could, please!” Suga says. “Just, you know… releasing some energy in a healthy—Kageyama!” he shouts as the latter springs from his grip, wrestling down the redhead in a vicious noogie.

“Haha!” Oikawa smiles, swiping his water bottle up from the ground, hoping that his blush isn’t noticeable under the flush from exertion. “You have some fun new players at Karasuno! Ya-hoo, Tobio-chan~” Kageyama pauses his assault on the smaller man to glare at Oikawa. 

Oikawa turns around to face his teammates. “Well! All rested and watered, I hope?” Receiving a few nods, he turns to face the players from the animation studio. “We’re perfect. Let’s play!”

* * *

“Oikawa, come to think of it—why are you doing this?”

Oikawa leans over the breakroom table, cupping his chin into his hands. “Makki, I’m just taking matters into my own hands.”

“It’s not that I think this is a bad idea,” Hanamaki begins.

“It’s about time, to be honest,” Matsukawa chips in.

“But why now? What’s the change?”

Oikawa sighs and takes a drink from his tea. “What are you even talking about? I suddenly realized that my feelings are stronger than those between friends—” Hanamaki and Matsukawa look doubtful, but Oikawa continues, “—and I figured I wanted to give it my best shot.”

Matsukawa scoffs. “You? Oikawa Tooru, mind-reader extraordinaire, realizing his feelings for his friend of twenty years… a few weeks ago?”

Oikawa shrugged. The back of his throat itches faintly but constantly at this point, but somehow… somehow, bringing it up feels cheap. Invasive. As if his feelings were nothing more than a disease.

“Yeah. That’s when we moved in together, actually. I guess that triggered it.”

His two friends give him a doubtful look before turning towards each other. They share a nonverbal back and forth, a painfully obvious _“You say it!”, “No, you say it!”_ , before Hanamaki sighs and starts. 

“The thing is, man, Iwaizumi’s kind of quiet. We only know him from his time here, and even then, we only really got to know him after you transferred in.”

“That’s when he opened up, really,” Matsukawa follows up.

“He is really attached to you.”

“Honestly? Kinda gross, get a room. In other words, we support you—”

“But. Do you know… if he’s… into men?” Hanamaki finishes weakly.

Oikawa sinks into his chair a little. He thinks back to high school, where Iwaizumi would respond to every soft confession, every perfumed letter, every daintily-wrapped chocolate. Oikawa hated seeing them appear in Iwaizumi's locker or desk, and he was not above strategically flirting in February in the hopes of redirecting some of these tokens of affection.

For those that still managed to pass this petty defense… Iwaizumi would speak to every sender in person, blushing and with a hand nervously scratching the back of his head. 

And every time he came back alone, Oikawa’s heart would lift a little. And then he would stomp his crush down under his heels, happily (as he told himself) settling his arm on Iwaizumi’s shoulder and reclaiming his place as his best friend.

Oikawa winces a bit before answering, “Well… I don’t know. He could very well be straight. But!” He straightens and pastes on a blinding smile. “He never dated any girls in high school, either.”

Matsukawa gives Oikawa a gentle look before sighing. “Well, I can’t say I understand how we got here. But my previous statement holds. I think… this might be a good thing for you two. If our dear Iwaizumi falls for any man, it’ll be you.”

“And frankly, I think you could turn more men than just Iwaizumi gay,” Hanamaki says, a grin growing across his face. 

Matsukawa gasps. “Bro! No homo, though.”

Oikawa laughs before pulling on the cheeks of the two men across the table. “You two lovebirds are so far out of the closet, you’ve probably wrapped around the world and punched a door into the other side of Narnia.” 

He leans back again. “But, thank you. I’m glad you’re here to help me. Now, are you going to give me actual advice, or what?”

Matsukawa sighs and rubs his temples. “Right… you want to escape the childhood-friend zone.”

Oikawa nods. “And I’ve tried flirting.”

Hanamaki glares over. “You cannot possibly count that water shtick. What levels of middle-school pettiness would make you come up with emptying out his bottle just so he can maybe, possibly, share an _indirect_ kiss with you!” His voice rises higher and higher before ending in an exasperated half-yell.

“But what do you suggest I do?” Oikawa exclaims, throwing up his hands. “I can’t exactly give him my best hair-sweep, wink, and pick-up line. He’ll punch me in the nose.”

Matsukawa chuckles. “That’s just the default reflex to you speaking, in general.”

“Hm. Somehow you gotta up your game. You have to be more… special?” Hanamaki suggests.

“I am special to him!” Oikawa splutters.

“We know, we know, but like… anything new? Anything he’s not used to?”

“Anything to give him that doki-doki,” Matsukawa deadpans, while Hanamaki looks over with an expression of mild disgust. “Like maybe… skinship? Or, well, that’s actually extremely ordinary for you two.”

“I mean, if we’re working with what we got, that would be the pool event this weekend,” Hanahaki muses. “What were you planning for that, anyway?”

Oikawa leans back to tap his lip with his finger. “You know, wear a nice swimsuit, show off all this,” he smirks as he waves to his body.

“So then, skin-to-skin skinship?” Hanamaki suggests.

Matsukawa glances over in horror. “Are you encouraging _him_ towards public PDA—”

“Ah.” A mild look of regret dawns on Hanamaki’s face. “Actually—”

But Oikawa had already begun looking over them, a wide smile spreading over his face. “This is perfect. The company event! We haven’t gone swimming in ages.” Oikawa pulls out the folder again and begins scribbling notes. “Thanks, you two. I’ll need support. Be there.”

“Jeez, you’re welcome.”

Oikawa flashes them his best business smile as he caps his pen, winks with a peace sign, and saunters out of the break room.

* * *

“I can’t believe you dragged me out to this, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi mumbles as he finishes changing and snaps the lock shut on the rented cubby. 

“Aww, even a grumpy old man like you can try to look forward to this,” Oikawa says cheerfully as he pulls out a pair of flip flops from his duffel bag. “Actually, I heard that underwater aerobics are good on aching joints—” 

Iwaizumi’s hand lowers after cuffing the back of Oikawa’s head. “I don’t know how you sweet-talked your way into this place.” He steps back, glancing around at the changing room. “This is really fancy. How expensive was it, anyway?”

Oikawa grins and shrugs as they finish up at the lockers. The cost wasn’t actually the problem; it wasn’t the craziest thing he’d expensed before, and Yahaba in accounting owed him a favour, anyways. The actual trouble was booking a nice place for a good time slot on a weekend, but he’d managed.

And luxurious, indeed it was. The changing room they’re passing through is massive—it’s spacious, new, and fully stocked with towels and shampoo for the patrons. As the two rinse off before entering the pool area, Oikawa catches Iwaizumi staring intently at the bottles of fragrant soap in the showers.

“Iwa-chan, that’s called conditioner.” Before Iwaizumi can react, Oikawa turns on his heels and does a mad speedwalk towards the pool entry. “I know your hedgehog hair has never seen the likes of it before, but you should really try it out sometime!” 

Oikawa laughs as Iwaizumi tries to catch up to him, slipping a little. He opens the door, barely dodging Iwaizumi’s grab towards the goggles around his neck, before catching a familiar face in the corner of his eye and spinning around.

“Hey! There’s Suga and Daichi-kun,” Oikawa waves at them.

Iwaizumi nearly falls out of the door, but he quickly regains his footing. He turns and nods to the approaching pair who are dressed in swimwear and holding folded towels.

“Horseplay already? No running on deck,” Daichi smiles at them. 

“Yes, yes, sorry, dad. Actually,” Oikawa cranes his neck to see if anyone was with them. “Where are the kids today? You had free invites for as many people as you liked.”

“You just want to bully that underclassman of yours,” Iwaizumi points out bluntly. Oikawa gives a small pout.

Suga laughs. “Nah, we didn’t want to impose. This is a Seijoh company event, after all. By the way, thank you for inviting us. This aquatic centre is amazing.”

“Isn’t it, though? I have Akaashi-kun to thank for the booking. VP of Human Resources over at Fuku Hotel Group.”

Suga gives a low whistle. “Go get ‘em, `Kaashi-kun.” 

Daichi hums. “The name’s familiar. Was he also in college volleyball?”

Oikawa nods. “Gotta keep an eye on the pretty setters, am I right?” He winks at Suga, who laughs.

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea. We should get together sometime.” Suga thinks for a second before continuing, “He travels a fair bit, but we could probably get a hold of him if we tried.” 

Oikawa smiles. “Great! Let me just… ah.” He falls off as he realizes that he doesn’t have his phone with him in his swimming trunks. 

“I’ll remind you later. Sometimes I wonder if half your brain is actually inside your phone,” Iwaizumi says as he rolls his eyes. 

“I’m going to ignore what you said since I’m in such a good mood, Iwa-chan! Anyways, we’ve spent enough time talking about the pool. It’s high time we go enjoy it!” 

“Speaking of. Look!” Suga points delightedly at the deep end of the largest pool, where a diving platform sits 10 metres above the surface of the water. A young woman with a red and white polka-dot swimsuit stands at the top next to the lifeguard. After a moment’s hesitation, she jumps off with a high-pitched scream, landing with a small splash into the water. After her orange hair bobs up to the surface, she swims over to the edge where a group of people are laughing and applauding.

Suga grins at Daichi, whose face turns slightly stony. 

“Suga, I don’t—” 

Suga is already dragging him away to the deep end of the pool. 

“Stay safe, kids! No horseplay or funny business!” Oikawa shouts after them.

He looks back to see Iwaizumi fiddling with his goggles, shifting them into place over his eyes. His hair pokes around the band comically.

“Ah, this throws me back. Classic goggle hedgehog Iwa-chan,” Oikawa grins. Iwaizumi’s glare is far less potent with his eyes bugged out behind tinted plastic lenses. 

Oikawa pulls his own hair back before slipping on the goggles. Checking his reflection in the changing room window, he deems his bangs acceptable for now. There's no surviving the mess that is pool hair, but he feels that anything is better than putting on a rubbery neon bald cap. 

“It has been a while since we went swimming though,” Iwaizumi muses a short distance away. _Urgh, he’s already walked off._ Oikawa takes one last peek in the window before rushing over.

“Right, the good ol’ days of playing on the beach, bare butts covered in sand, skin peeling from sunburn,” Oikawa groans. 

“I had fun. Hunting clams and shrimp from the tide pools, and things.” Iwaizumi turns, a glint in his eye. “I’m still better at swimming than you, though. Wanna bet on a bowl of ramen?”

Oikawa gasps, but the air is caught in his throat as he starts coughing. Waving off Iwaizumi’s look of concern, he turns around and coughs a few petals into his hand. He whips around, seeing a trash can, and quickly deposits the petals there.

Oikawa clears his throat. “I’m sure you remember incorrectly. Besides, I have the height advantage.” He coughs as Iwaizumi elbows him in the stomach. 

Iwaizumi looks over Oikawa’s shoulder. “Hey, is that Kyoutani over there?” 

“Kyouken-chan? Oh, I think that’s the saltwater pool!” Oikawa looks over too, seeing the recognizable yellow-and-black hair. Kyoutani seems to be looking around for something under the water. Standing next to him are Matsukawa and Hanamaki. Or, more accurately, Matsukawa is standing in the chest-deep water, and Hanamaki sits on his shoulders, wielding a pool noodle like a floppy lance. 

Seeing his co-conspirators, Oikawa is suddenly reminded of his original goal. _Skinship. But like,_ special _skinship._ “Iwa-chan, let’s go do that!”

Iwaizumi squints. “What are they doing?”

“Yeah-I’m-not-sure-but-I’ll-race-you-there-3-2-1-go!” Oikawa jumps into the pool and immediately starts paddling towards their friends, missing the look of chagrin aimed at him from the nearest lifeguard.

“Oy! Oikawa!” Iwaizumi yells as he jumps into the water himself—more carefully, under the watchful gaze of the lifeguard—and streaks after Oikawa. 

Oikawa surfaces right next to Matsukawa, slapping him on the shoulder. “First!” he gasps out triumphantly, punching the water—

—only to see Iwaizumi standing next to Kyoutani looking at him amusedly, water dropping down from his hair onto defined shoulders. His cheeks are a little flushed from the brief sprint, and his muscles shift smoothly under tanned skin as he steps nearer.

It’s only when he hears Hanamaki snigger from above him that he shakes out of his staring. “Uh—what?” 

Iwaizumi is now closer to him, followed by Kyoutani. Yahaba materializes behind the group. “I said, Loserkawa, that you owe me ramen now. Maybe after this we should all get together for a drink.”

Oikawa sighs. “Ehh. Anything for a date Iwa-chan? You’re so desperate sometimes.” Oikawa dodges the spray of water aimed at his head, laughing. 

“Augh, the water really is salty. But!” Oikawa waves at Hanamaki and Matsukawa. “I don’t know what this is, but I want in. Get on my shoulders, Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi frowns, and seems to think for a second before slowly approaching Oikawa. 

“Actually, what is this?” Yahaba speaks up from the side. 

“Sword-fighting!” Hanamaki shouts, at the same time Matsukawa yells “Chicken!” They pause, and Matsukawa shrugs, bobbing Hanamaki up an inch before he relaxes his shoulders. “Doesn’t really matter, something, something, last man standing!”

“Hmph. Looks stupid—” Kyoutani begins, before a screech interrupts him.

Oikawa bursts out of the water, rising above the surface until Iwaizumi also appears, triumphantly beneath him. Oikawa wobbles back and forth a few times before somewhat stabilizing, Iwaizumi shifting his grip on his legs. 

“I heard ‘last man standing’,” Iwaizumi grins. “What are we doing?”

“Ah, Iwaizumi of Kin-san!” Hanamaki launches into a stage voice. “On this day, I challenge you to battle!” He whoops a samurai battle-cry and flourishes the pool noodle above his head, and Matsukawa balances himself as he flings a red pool noodle towards Oikawa.

“Woah! Let’s go!” Yahaba cheers as he grabs a noodle for himself and clambers onto Kyoutani’s back. Kyoutani lets out a grunt of surprise, but doesn’t refuse. 

The three groups launch at each other, surprising some surrounding swimmers. The splashing and noise scare away most in the proximity, but others farther away cheer their support.

Yahaba makes a sweeping strike towards Oikawa’s head, Iwaizumi sidestepping neatly. Oikawa turns with the momentum to jab his noodle under Hanamaki’s ribs.

“Whoo! Go Oikawa!” Suga yells from a distance.

The whoops and cries get louder as they all crowd together, with the screams abruptly dampened as Oikawa falls backwards into the pool, dragging Iwaizumi underwater with him. 

Oikawa opens his eyes underwater. He sees Iwaizumi suspended near him, letting large bubbles float out of his mouth as he laughs. Oikawa immediately darts over to pinch his sides. He hears the muffled yelp Iwaizumi lets out underwater, and Oikawa smiles as he wraps his hands around Iwaizumi’s waist, appreciating the warmth. 

Iwaizumi breaks up through the surface, coughing a little but still laughing. Oikawa manages to grab onto his shoulders, also pushing himself above water, and he drapes himself over Iwaizumi’s back. He giggles contentedly as Yahaba lets out a surprised yell, finally knocked down by the now-gloating Hanamaki-Matsukawa pair.

“How unreliable! We could have won that if it weren’t for you, Iwa-chan~” Oikawa sings. 

“Hmph. It was your fault. You shouldn’t have been on top,” Iwaizumi grumbles back. His neck is warm, almost flushed. Oikawa snuggles into it before immediately noticing the shit-eating grins on Hanamaki and Matsukawa…

…but he starts coughing before he can say anything. He slips off Iwaizumi’s back to hack into his arm.

“Hey, what’s going on? Are you sure you’re alright?” Iwaizumi appears at his side again.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. It might be allergies, or something. Maybe a small cold—” Oikawa gives a full-chested cough, internally swearing to himself. He beelines towards the nearest edge of the pool.

“Are you cold? Did you get something stuck in your throat? I might have some—” 

“It’s fine, Iwa-chan— _cough_ —I’m gonna go drink some water.” Oikawa pulls himself out of the pool, feeling the petals collect under his tongue. They were really accumulating. “I might be getting a cold, or something. I’ll go home for today.”

“I’ll walk you home—”

“It’s fine, Mom!” Oikawa tries to give a smile around the petals in his mouth. Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to buy it, and he doesn’t offer a rebuttal to the mothering comment. “You hold down the fort here. I’m gonna go home. I’ll see you soon.”

Oikawa rushes into the changeroom, not looking back to see Iwaizumi’s concerned expression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: a day in the life of a Seijoh Advertising employee
> 
> Out of the 11 people on the volleyball court, only 10 were named. The last was Asahi on the Karasuno team. But he was there _trust me shhh_
> 
> Also, re: cameo -- super brief, but Sakura Chiyo from Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun made an appearance on the diving platform!
> 
> School appearances:  
> Seijoh Advertising  
> Karasuno Animation Studios  
> Nekoma Properties  
> Fuku Hotel Group


	3. Day 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Oikawa. What’s going on.” Iwaizumi stands, blocking the door.  
>  Oikawa smiles softly. It’s not easy to fool Iwaizumi, but it can be done. The key is to not try too hard. Well, that, and to minimize exposure time and hope for the best._  
> In which Oikawa is the heartthrob of Seijoh Advertising. No really, he does actually have fans. He’s good at flirting. He is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #quarantinefic yikes
> 
> (stay safe, everyone!)

Oikawa shows up to work the following Monday in a face mask. 

At first he wore one at home just to sell the common cold lie to Iwaizumi. But over the weekend, he noticed that the white chrysanthemum petals would fly out of his mouth even when he cleared his throat or sighed too hard. He thinks his skin is a bit pale too, so he dutifully slips on the mask, dresses comfortably, and heads to work early to avoid the commute with Iwaizumi.

Work passes by uneventfully. Drinking tea helps, and he manages to limit his trips to the bathroom to about once per hour. The volume of petals escaping his throat is becoming a little alarming, but he refuses to panic.

His plan today was a flanking approach: flirting with the people adjacent to Iwaizumi instead of at him directly. Oikawa scans the hallways before leaving the bathroom. While he needs Iwaizumi there to get jealous (hopefully), he can’t have him discover the Hanahaki, either.

“What’s up, champ?” Oikawa jumps at the voice behind him. He turns around to see Hanamaki grinning at him. Matsukawa is giving a smug half-lidded smile as well.

“You look like death,” Matsukawa offers.

Oikawa groans and rolls his eyes, pulling his mask over his face and shuffling away. “I don’t know why I allow you to work together.”

“You love us.”

“Not right now, I don’t.”

Before he can push through the glass door into the work area, the two step in front of him.

“Oikawa. We’re worried, man.”

“You’re acting a bit off. Does this have anything to do with the time I stole your milk bread—” Hanamaki shuts up as Oikawa levels him a death glare.

Matsukawa crosses his arms. “That calendar. That weird plan of yours. What’s really going on?”

Oikawa steps back and examines his friends before carefully responding. “I’m just kind of stressed, you know,” he shrugs, closing his eyes and giving his best carefree expression. “It’s a bit difficult, sometimes, when you’re as busy and accomplished and sexy as I am, but your brilliance is wasted away as you pine for weeks on end~”

He cracks an eye open to look at Hanamaki and Matsukawa. They absolutely do not buy it.

He sighs. But, it’s technically true, isn’t it? 

“Look, don’t worry about me,” he tries as he starts pushing past the door and towards his desk. “I’m still counting on your help. It’s not even a really big deal, you know. I’m prepared to just dive in, rip off the band-aid when the time comes.” He’s at his desk, and he pulls out the calendar to demonstrate, pointing at the last day. “This is a timed endeavor, you know.”

He sits at his desk. “Now, shoo, shoo. I have actual work to do. If you want to help me out, buy me some of that chrysanthemum tea I’ve seen you drink, Makki.” 

* * *

He wanders down to the first floor, planning to grab a quick lunch at the street vendors outside the building, when he notices Iwaizumi chatting with a mixed group of people in the lobby. Before he can think about what he’s doing, Oikawa steps behind a pillar and peeks out.

He sees some familiar faces—Kyoutani, Kunimi, and several others—in the group. They seem to be talking animatedly to some men and women wearing guest passes, and Oikawa grinds his teeth when he sees Iwaizumi leaning back to laugh at something one of the girls had said. 

Oikawa’s mind flashes back to the 4-week plan, and he changes his path to walk towards the secretary. He cheers internally as it seems to be a young man today, and pulls his face mask off. Time for an experiment.

“Hello there,” Oikawa glances at the nameplate, “Watari-kun.”

The other man looks at him for a second—eyes flicking up to his hair?—before smiling. “Hello. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Well, I was just about to head out for lunch, and I saw a pretty, new face. Want me to grab you something to eat?”

“Hm,” the man across from him smiles. “I think I’ve heard of you. Oikawa-san from the eighth floor?” 

Oikawa’s eyes widen a little in surprise. “Huh, am I that famous?” He also quickly glances behind to see that Iwaizumi’s group was starting to break up.

The man chuckles. “You might be. You’re certainly not doing anything to detract from your reputation as a hopeless flirt.”

Oikawa leans forward, and he pulls out his best endearing pout. “Hopeless? Surely that’s not all?” He hears Iwaizumi’s voice drift off to the elevators. _Dammit. Not even interested enough to come over and ask._

Watari leans back subtly, straightening his spine. Despite his small stature, he commands a quiet air of strength. “A handsome, hopeless flirt?” His smile, thin and polite, seems to take on a mischievous air as he continues. “You’ve got quite the trail of ladies—and gentlemen—following you. I’ve seen the fanclub group chats, and they certainly think you’re handsome.”

Oikawa doesn’t preen at that, not a bit.

“In fact, there is an equal number of group chats made by the broken hearts you leave behind. The handsome flirt, single and yet hopelessly unavailable.” Watari smiles a bit wider. “It’s almost as if he has someone else on his mind already.”

Oikawa is too surprised to smooth out his confused expression, and straightens up. 

Watari looks like he’s trying to hold back laughter. “Sorry, I’m actually not even new here. I’m from the same group as Kyoutani-san, and I’m covering for my sister while she’s out for coffee. She bribed me with her under-the-table candy stash. Milk toffee?”

Oikawa opens his mouth to respond but shrugs instead, taking the candy and popping it into his mouth. “Well, worth a shot, I guess?”

“Hey, I’ll take the coffee if you’re still offering.”

“Sure, sure.” Oikawa grins as he puts on the face mask and heads out.

* * *

Near the end of the day, as he returns to his work area, he’s surprised by how many voices he hears. Peeking around the corner, he notices a group of people collected outside a conference room. Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Kindaichi are also there, finishing up a conversation, as well as a number of familiar faces from Karasuno Animation Studio. 

“Ah! Tobio-chan~” He smiles widely and practically skips over, stuffing his face mask into a back pocket. As he approaches, Kageyama shifts into a more defensive stance. The redhead from the previous Thursday hops between them, eagerly extending a hand.

“Hi! You’re Oikawa Tooru-san, right? I’ve heard that you’re also a designer and that you went to the same college as Yamayama-kun here! Gosh, your serves the other day were so amazing—like _gwaah_ and _puwahhh_ , can you teach me the next time we play? And what projects are you—” 

“Shut up, dumbass Hinata,” Kageyama interrupts, planting his palm across the shorter man’s face. He glares up at Oikawa through his bangs. “Good afternoon, Senpai. This is Hinata Shouyou. This is Shimizu Kiyoko-san,” he tilts his shoulder away, and the quiet woman behind them with sleek black hair and glasses gives a slight nod. “We look forward to working with you for the new ICS sportswear animated advertisement.”

“Ah! You’re ready to play with the big boys now? It’s so good to see you doing something productive for once,” Oikawa grins. “Keep an eye on me, you have so much to learn~”

“Ahh, that’s so cool! I can’t believe we get to meet the guy that _taught_ you how to—”

“Shut up! Dumbass! Hinata dumbass!” 

The two continue to bicker in front of a mildly amused Oikawa. He looks past them to see that Iwaizumi is their way while talking to Kindaichi. Oikawa swears he catches Iwaizumi throwing a watchful glance in his direction.

 _Interesting_. He can work with that. He turns around to address the bespectacled young woman, who is currently tapping away at a remarkable speed on her phone.

“Shimizu-san, was it?”

She looks up briefly and gives a slight nod. “Oikawa-san.”

“I didn’t know there’d be such a beauty at Karasuno! Suga’s been holding out on me,” Oikawa purrs.

She turns up to face Oikawa completely, face still blank but now directed towards him.

“We’ve all heard many good things about your work. We're fortunate to be able to collaborate with your team,” she says smoothly. Her demeanor is calm, almost chilly, as she completely overlooks Oikawa’s compliment. He wants to cringe.

“Well, that’s wonderful to hear! I’m lucky to work with such talented people. My greatest joy is bringing out their potential.” Ugh, was that too cheesy? “I look forward to getting to know Karasuno’s representatives as well,” Oikawa finishes, glancing over at Kageyama and Hinata. They seem to have wandered over into a confrontation with Kindaichi. 

He considers breaking it up, then decides that Kindaichi can suck it up and handle it.

Turning back to Shimizu, he continues with a smile. “Perhaps we should all go out for drinks before the project really gets underway?”

She nods, looking back at her device. Brightly coloured grids flash across the screen. “That sounds like an excellent idea. I will get in touch with your administrative manager to book a time.”

“Why not exchange numbers and take care of it now? Seize the moment!” Oikawa says cheerfully, pulling out his phone. 

“That’s quite alright, Oikawa-san,” she finally smiles, and it’s terse and polite. “I’ve just gotten in touch with Asuma-san from your depatartment. It seems next Friday evening will be a good time. I am sure your friends at Karasuno will be eager to see you, as well.”

“As expected of Shimizu-san,” whispers Hinata, not at all quietly.

Oikawa turns to see Kageyama giving him a smug grin and Kindaichi looking puzzled. Before he can respond, though, he starts to feel the itch rise in his throat again. He takes a shallow breath— which only makes it worse—and immediately starts backtracking away. “Well, that’s excellent! I’m looking forward to it already, how exciting. It's been great meeting you, Shimizu-san,” he nods towards her, “Tobio-chan, Chibi-chan.”

Before anyone reacts, he dashes into the nearest bathroom. He dips into a stall, locks it, and begins coughing into the toilet.

By the time he opens his eyes again, he sees small unopened buds among the flurry of white petals. He distantly thinks that he’s grateful rose thorns weren’t the uninvited guests of his respiratory system. 

He quickly flushes, straightens his clothes, and leaves the stall. As he washes his hands, he hears someone enter the bathroom.

“Oikawa. What’s going on.” Iwaizumi stands, blocking the door. 

Oikawa smiles softly. It’s not easy to fool Iwaizumi, but it can be done. The key is to not try too hard. Well, that, and to minimize exposure time and hope for the best.

“Ah, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa wipes his hands on his handkerchief. “Having a bit of stomach trouble. What a pesky cold!” He shrugs and tries to walk past Iwaizumi, who stops him.

“Are you sure it’s not the flu, or something?” Iwaizumi holds onto his shoulder and leans in. Immediately, Oikawa’s breath hitches, and he swears the next few seconds move in slow motion.

“Doesn’t seem to be a fever at least,” Iwaizumi sighs as he presses his forehead against Oikawa’s. Oikawa still hasn’t caught his breath—Iwaizumi’s eyelashes were fluttering against his cheeks, and suddenly he’s pulling away, far too soon.

Oikawa takes a moment to steady his breath before replying. “Yeah, don’t worry, Iwa-chan. It’s a small cold. I’ll get over it soon.” Iwaizumi is still standing in the way, so he tries angling his body around towards the door while speaking. “And by the way, did you know that Karasuno had such a beautiful lady working on that team of monsters? Wasted there, I tell you.”

Iwaizumi actually has the nerve to scoff at this. “I’ve met Kiyoko-san before,” he asserts, smiling when Oikawa grimaces at the familiar address. “And I definitely saw you get shut down, hard.” 

“Ah, so mean, Iwa-chan. But we’re going out with her next week, and I’ll get her number then,” he sniffs. He did actually plan to get her number; connections were valuable, especially when they belonged to people who potentially had dirt on his not-protégé. 

“Go and try, Asskawa. Crash and burn again.”

“Don’t be jealous, Iwa-chan~” Oikawa shrugs, still eyeing his escape route.

Iwaizumi gives him a bit of a funny glance, but doesn’t say anything. Oikawa ignores it in favour of getting out as soon as possible. He tries stepping away, and this time Iwaizumi lets him. 

* * *

“Hey, Kunimi. Who was that you were talking with earlier?” Oikawa leans over the partition at Kunimi’s desk, having just placed a coffee there as a bribe.

Kunimi gives him a questioning look behind half-lidded eyes. God, why did all his teammates have such lazy-looking expressions all the time?

“This morning. In the lobby. With Iwa-chan and Kyouken-chan.”

Kunimi pauses, eyes squinting even more for a second as he seems to process the nicknames. “Ah. The associates from Johzenji Gaming.”

It’s Oikawa’s turn to flip through his memory for any information on people he might know from the group. He remembers there were a few developers who had visited Seijoh before… Hana? Runa? Haruna? Ruharana?

He cuts himself off before he generates any more convoluted names. “What were they here for?”

“Iwaizumi-san’s team is working with them soon. They met for drinks this weekend and ran into each other today.” Kunimi’s voice gets quieter and quieter as he speaks, and his posture even seems to wilt like a wind-up doll. Oikawa continues the line of questioning before Kunimi inevitably runs out of battery, subtly pushing the coffee forward again.

“So they were on friendly terms! It wasn’t a strictly work thing!” 

“Guess so.”

Oikawa thinks back to the sass he knows Kunimi is capable of dealing. _It’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for._ But he decides to commit, leaning closer over the partition to ask a little more quietly.

“Kunimi, did anyone exchange numbers? Like, Iwa-chan and the girls there?”

Kunimi inches his hand toward the cup. “I think they already had each other’s numbers.”

Oikawa leans back, slamming his hand onto the partition, cursing under his breath. Kunimi looks entirely unfazed.

“What’s going on here? Are you harassing Kunimi, Trashkawa?”

Oikawa whips around to see Iwaizumi standing there, arms crossed. “Ah. No, I was just… discussing the cute correspondents from Johzenji Gaming. Habaruhana-san? Or something?”

Iwaizumi frowns a little. “Misaki Hana-san and Kuribayashi Runa-san. They’re working on the final stages of the newest IP. They gave us some feedback on our promotional campaign.”

Oikawa whistles at that. “You got both their numbers then, or just the pretty one with long hair?” As he hears his own words, he starts wincing internally. 

Iwaizumi raises his eyebrows, and even Kunimi has the echo of confusion etched across his face. “Oikawa. You… what’s going on? Why the hell are you talking like that?”

Oikawa gapes. “I… right. I… I didn’t mean that. I think I’m just tired. I might go take a nap, actually. Might be the cold.” 

Iwaizumi looks confused and a bit worried, but Oikawa quickly stalks off towards his desk. He really was feeling tired, although the reason was more likely associated with the calendar he sees peeking out from under a stack of files.

He tugs it out, reading the first two weeks crossed out. Under the current week, his quick scrawl reads “flirting -> jealousy?” 

As the events of the day wash over him, he suddenly feels exhausted and embarrassed. What was he even doing? Why did he think any of this would work? And underneath all the questions, he feels a current of anger that he couldn’t make Iwaizumi jealous—and a flush of shame that he got riled up so quickly himself.

A small part of him was starting to believe that Iwaizumi would never look at him that way. 

_Think about it. What would happen? What_ will _happen?_

Oikawa can figure most of it out. First, Iwaizumi turns down the confession. Oikawa will have to get the surgery, and would likely recover within a few weeks. The worst side effect would probably be lost or altered memories. Maybe he should write down the most important information as neutrally as possible and try working off of a cheatsheet of his own life?

He considers moving out temporarily so that Iwaizumi notices less. Daichi and Suga had a spare room, and he could ask them to host him for the early stages of the recovery. But Iwaizumi would find out sooner or later, and even if he doesn’t, it’ll be awkward, for sure. So he’d need to move out—he would probably need to find a new lease, pay double rent for a while. 

But… it would be more than just awkwardness. Iwaizumi would be confused, or even angry and hurt. He probably wouldn’t think of it as a betrayal, at least?

The thing is, childhood friendship runs two ways, and Oikawa can read Iwaizumi’s face like a book as well. He imagines Iwaizumi’s face flash from confusion, to the briefest flash of unconcealed disgust, to a wavering mask of unease, concern, and worst of all, pity.

The pressure in Oikawa’s chest spikes again. He considers going to the bathroom to cough it out, but his eyes drag to the bottom right corner of the calendar. He has time left, but he needs to book the surgery soon. 

He pulls out his cellphone and a business card for Shiratorizawa Hospital and slips into the hallway to make the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: phone calls and fever dreams *inhales nervously*
> 
> I think this work has been relatively cheerful so far? They've literally just... been running around a lot. From my admittedly subjective point of view, the angst is going to ramp up a fair bit starting next chapter. But, it's hanahaki, so we all saw that coming, right? ;)
> 
> School appearances:  
> Seijoh Advertising  
> Karasuno Animation Studios  
> Nekoma Properties  
> Fuku Hotel Group  
> Johzenji Gaming  
> Shiratorizawa Hospital


	4. Day 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Oikawa imagines himself confessing. Maybe something along the lines of, ‘Iwa-chan, do you like me? Let’s go on a date. But it has to be this week. And you have to like me back. Or else I’m going to nearly die and then possibly forget who you are.’_  
>  In which Oikawa is being taken care of by his mom and later also gets a call from his mom. Maybe it shouldn’t be surprising that he’s so childish.

“Oikawa, what’s going on?” 

“Wh- uh, one, one second…” Oikawa mumbles as he lifts his head from the pillow.

The banging on the door that woke him up restarts. 

“Shittykawa, open up. You’re going to be late for work.”

“I’ll head out later—augh!” 

Iwaizumi crashes in through the door, which swings loosely on its hinges. The busted lock makes a clunking metal sound as it threatens to fall out of the door entirely.

“What the hell!” Oikawa tries to yell, but his voice comes out as a hollow rasp. 

Iwaizumi looks up at his face, scowling. “I knew it. You drove yourself into the ground again.”

“You broke my door— _cough_ —”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll fix it later. You can’t go to work like this. I’ll make you some porridge, and you need to eat it. I think we have some medicine in the cabinets…”

Oikawa wants badly to just laugh and make a joke about Iwaizumi as a helicopter parent, but he quickly gives up on the idea when he feels a pressure in his throat. He smiles and nods, aware that his expression looks more constipated than calming.

Iwaizumi bustles around for another twenty-odd minutes, creating a little pile of medicines, fruit, cooling sprays, and other supplies next to his bed. 

“—and make sure to take your temperature when you wake up, and if it breaks 38—”

Oikawa groans into the pillow. “Iwa-chan, I get it. I’ll be fine. You go off to work. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

A soft pressure ruffles the back of his head. “Rest, for once in your life, Trashykawa.” 

The door creaks back into place, not fully closing anymore, but enough to offer some amount of privacy. Oikawa listens for the front door shutting and locking before he sits up. 

This is something he’d miss, he supposes. Not that he can't handle living alone—obviously, he had during all of university and afterwards, up until recently. He’s only been living with Iwaizumi for a few weeks. But somehow, he’s already regressed back to high-school levels of spoiled brattiness.

Oikawa smiles to himself, fluffing up the hair where Iwaizumi had patted him. It takes a special kind to deal with Oikawa, and he's self-aware enough to know this. At the end of the day, Iwaizumi is an indulgent man.

He’d miss it. The hovering worriedness, the petty fights, the gentle touches.

Because, and Oikawa realizes that he’s fully accepted this, it was going to end soon. _Think about it._

His efforts at winning Iwaizumi’s affections were childish and frivolous. He and Iwaizumi had a strong bond and deep trust for each other, but… it seems like that wasn’t enough for Oikawa and the damn plant in his chest.

He could confess, but Iwaizumi would only be confused. Then worried. Then he’d try to strike some sort of balance, where he’d try to be friends, but would need some distance. He might even wholeheartedly try to convince himself that he loved Oikawa. Oikawa let himself laugh at that thought. _Iwa-chan, don’t think too hard, you’ll fry your brain that way_. 

Or maybe he’d need to disappear for a short amount of time, and Oikawa would be waiting for him after he got back, chest a little lighter. Memories a little emptier.

He groans as his body aches. Wasn’t Hanahaki specifically a respiratory ailment? It wasn’t supposed to be an actual, full-on, flu-like disease, right?

Oikawa moves himself over to his table and pulls his laptop out. He flips through work emails, then apartment listings. Unable to focus, he tries to enjoy a “Setter Fails Compilation” video. But after a few minutes, the backs of his eyes hurt enough that he groans and gives up, leaning back onto the bed again.

He feels a cough coming on, and his body whips forward. It’s more painful than ever before, and he feels like he’s hacking his lungs out. He feels something solid and wet land into his hands, and his throat feels temporary relief.

He opens his hands to reveal a whole white chrysanthemum head, petals not fully unfurled, but nearly there. Oikawa’s too tired to think about how this thing grew inside his lungs or what else might be coming next. He manages to haul himself up to the bed before he collapses, letting the warm waves of sleep overtake him.

* * *

Oikawa wakes up to the sound of his phone buzzing near his head. He groggily sits up—it seems to be early evening judging by the light filtering in through his curtains. Oddly enough, the pressure in his chest has faded almost entirely, and he feels… just tired and sore, as if he had a regular cold.

He picks up his phone, seeing the name _Refreshing Suga~_ glowing on the screen. He curses under his breath, considers not picking up, and decides against.

“Hello?”

“Oikawa. I heard you didn’t go in today.” Suga’s voice is soft, but firm.

“Yeah. ‘M feeling under the weather.”

“Are you really, now.” When Oikawa doesn’t answer, Suga continues. “It’s been a few weeks, Oikawa… how are the flowers?”

“They’re kind of big. Almost fully bloomed.”

Oikawa hears the sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. “Did you book the surgery?”

“Yeah, a few days ago. It’s in a week.”

“Do you want me to send you there? I can pick you up.”

“No, it’s OK, I can get a cab.”

“No, no, I—remember, I said you don’t want to do this alone, trust me. I’ll be there, I’ll get Daichi—”

Oikawa interrupts him with a soft laugh. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Anyway, who knows, maybe I’ll confess before then. I live with Iwa-chan, after all. I’ll still see him around.”

A pause on the other end of the line.

“You haven’t confessed yet?”

“No, there are a few days left. I really started wondering if… well, I’m not sure it will make a difference at this point. I was thinking I would actually worsen our relationship post-surgery if I confess.”

“Oikawa, please.” Something about Suga’s tone startles Oikawa to attention. “I know we talked about this, and I know surgery can really save you, but, you need to give yourself that chance. I thought you were planning to confess from the beginning. This is serious.”

“What do you mean?” Oikawa freezes for a moment, before quietly trying, “Hold on, did _you_ ever have…”

“No, no, not that,” Suga says. “It wasn’t me.” Another pause. “It was my college roommate.”

“What?”

“It’s not a pretty story. She coughed up red flowers for a month, maybe longer. One day, she woke up choking in the night, barely awake and barely breathing, so I rushed her to the ER. I didn’t know since she had been hiding the petals, and she almost had full-bloom flowers in her lungs.”

“How… what happened to her?”

An ominous tone weighs Suga’s voice down as he continues. “I was there when she woke up. She hadn’t undergone the surgery, but the flowers receded a bit naturally. She told me then that she was in love with a professor. Married. He probably didn’t even know. 

“But she’s an uncommonly strong person, you know. After her hospital trip, she leapt into action, and she told me that she would confess the day after her release, chance of success be damned.”

“And then?”

Suga hums into the phone. “She did. And… he rejected her. She was forced to take her last option, and after that… it was subtle, but she seemed defeated, somehow.”

“The surgery changed her,” Oikawa muttered, coughing lightly. 

“Yeah. She wasn’t emotionless or anything, but she would fall into these little lapses where her eyes just seemed… cold.” Suga sighs. “But! She slowly healed up after. Daichi and I went to her wedding last year, actually. She seems better, now.” 

“Well, that’s… reassuring, I guess.” 

Suga seems to word his next question carefully. “But... worse come to worst, you'll still get the surgery if you need it, right?”

Oikawa lets out a hollow laugh. “As opposed to dying? What do you take me for?” 

_Think about it_. 

Oikawa pushes away the image of Iwaizumi looking down at him, hurt, disgusted.

Suga breathes softly. “Oikawa, what do you know about how people contract Hanahaki?”

“What, that it affects those with unrequited love?”

“Yeah. Thing is, I used to wonder, who would rather die than get the plant removed, right? You lose memories of your love too, so… cruel as it is, you might be better off. But more people die of final-stage Hanahaki than get the surgery.

“It just seems to hit at the worst time, like it targets the people who’ve loved someone fruitlessly for so long that they’re just… exhausted. Resigned. They’ve given up on having their feelings returned, and they’ve given up on ignoring or forgetting their love.”

Oikawa breathes softly into the phone. He clutches his shirt above his lungs, where he knew the flowers were slowly growing back.

A beat of silence. Oikawa is the one to break it this time. “So… what are you trying to tell me? Sorry that the surgery sucks, and statistics show that it’s actually the last thing you want to do, but you gotta do it? And if you could humiliate yourself and possibly traumatize your best friend along the way, that would be great. While you’re out, get a dozen eggs and some more milk.” He regrets letting the bitterness pour into his voice, but he can’t stop it. 

Suga seems to steel himself before speaking again. “Look, Oikawa… there are so many of us that don’t want to lose you. So, yes, I’m saying you shouldn’t cancel the surgery. 

“But I’m also saying that you’re a brilliant, passionate man, and we can all see it. And I don’t know Iwaizumi-san that well, but if you’ve been friends for as long you say you have, he has to see it, too. So, you _need_ to give yourself that chance.”

Oikawa lets the words sink in.

“Right. Um… Okay.” He breathes in, closing his eyes, and he manages to relax, if only by a miniscule amount, before continuing. “I’m not defeated or resigned. I might be…” His breath hitches. “I might be chasing something unreachable.”

“But!” Oikawa pushes on before Suga can interrupt. “Do you know what? _I’m_ a goddamn catch! _So many_ people would fall at my feet for this chance. So why not Iwa-chan, too?” He ends, trying to inject confidence into his words.

“Damn right!” Suga exclaims into the phone. “Our Majesty, High King Oikawa Tooru, simply requests a consort.”

Oikawa laughs now, a true, full-bodied laugh. “Well, I better get courting, then.” He sighs. “Alright. I think I need to eat, and I might even go for a walk after this. I’ll… forward you the confirmation for the appointment.” Oikawa sucks in a quick breath. “If I have to go through with it, I’d like to have you there.”

“We’ll be there. For this, and for anything else you need.”

“Thanks. For everything. You know, I… I tease you all, but I’m really glad you’re my friends. I mean it.” 

“We are pretty great, huh?” Suga says brightly.

Oikawa chuckles again.

“Yeah. See you.”

“Take care, see you soon!”

* * *

The congee was quite good once it was warmed up. After coughing up a few more buds—small, just barely opening at the tops—Oikawa felt well enough to take a stroll through the neighbourhood. As he sets out, the sun has set, so he puts on an extra sweater under his jacket to shield against the night air.

He loops around the streets, still slightly foreign to him, before he finds his way to the playground. Nestled among the brightly coloured play structures is an abandoned rubber ball. He picks it up and starts setting it into the air. 

The movements come naturally to him, and he finds himself wandering in small patterns through the playground, eyes on the ball above him. He barely hears a crunch in the wood chips nearby when suddenly a hand reaches over his face and neatly palms the ball away.

Oikawa can’t help but smile a little. “Before you say anything, Iwa-chan, I slept a~ll day. I just wanted some fresh air, since I’m feeling better!” He turns around to make his trademark winky face at Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi is just looking at him. He takes a second before grunting his acknowledgement, and lobs the ball back into Oikawa’s chest. “Want to do a bit of rallying?”

“Why, you know me so well~”

Once Iwaizumi settles into his stance, Oikawa tosses the ball over. The two pass the ball back and forth for a few minutes before finally, the ball drops a little too far to Oikawa’s right, and he jogs off to pick it up again.

“That was on you, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa teases as he walks back. He clears his throat—subtly, he hopes. It feels relatively clear.

Iwaizumi has walked over to sit on a large pipe-like structure. He shrugs as Oikawa sits next to him.

“What, no retort today?” Oikawa says, letting himself on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. It’s comfortable, sitting like this. Iwaizumi’s body radiates a soft heat, and Oikawa’s head nestles snugly in place.

“Nah. Just glad you’re feeling better.”

Oikawa feels a pang in his chest—not from his lungs or a cough, just a small sting of emotion.

“Thanks to your tender loving care, of course.”

“Wouldn’t need me so much if you’d just take care of yourself,” Iwaizumi grumbles softly. 

_Of course,_ Oikawa thinks to himself. He looks guiltily down at his fingertips, still grasping the ball. 

He knows he’s irresponsible at the worst moments. _Think about it_ , a small part of him whispers. He’s always relied on Iwaizumi, and even after years apart, he easily fell back into the pattern of being taken care of. 

But right did he have, really? To be relieved at someone else’s expense, just as you’re placing an immense burden on them. And about to place more.

_Think about it. What would happen?_

Oikawa imagines himself murmuring from his spot at Iwaizumi’s neck. Maybe something along the lines of, ' _Iwa-chan, do you like me? Let’s go on a date. But it has to be this week. And you have to like me back. Or else, I’m going to nearly die and then possibly forget who you are.'_

_Think about it. What will happen?_

Oikawa lets his eyes shut as he imagines Iwaizumi pulling away. Maybe he’ll push Oikawa’s bangs back, citing a fever as he quickly drags them both home. If Oikawa keeps his eyes closed, he won’t have to see Iwaizumi’s face as he tries to respond.

Maybe he should avoid provoking a response in the first place. (At the back of his mind, he hears Suga’s voice—almost nagging— _You need to give yourself that chance._ )

_Think about it._

Honestly, he doesn’t want to think about it any more. He wishes he could say whatever he wanted. Maybe, _Iwa-chan, I’d like to kiss you. I hope you don’t mind._

Or even, _I love you, Iwa-chan. Always have._

It’s warm, and he’s more tired than he thought he was. He wishes he could just… stay.

* * *

_“Are you going to miss it? High school?”_

Oikawa is standing in front of the school gate. He sees students file out of the auditorium, clad in the familiar old uniform. 

He looks to the right, and it’s Iwaizumi who is asking this time. He’s wearing a workplace suit, jacket slung loosely through the crook of his elbow. The cherry blossoms are falling gently, very pale in the light of the setting sun.

 _“Nah. I’ve got what I want. I’ve got amazing friends, a fun job, volleyball,”_ Oikawa finds a volleyball in his hands as he lists his blessings. The ground beneath him is soft, sand shifting as he curls his toes into the ground. He looks up, and Iwaizumi is standing across him, behind a net. 

_“And I’ve got you. I’m lucky, right?”_ Oikawa says as he serves the ball over, white petals still falling from the sky. _“A best friend, and a volleyball partner! I don’t want to lose you.”_

 _“That’s good.”_ Iwaizumi bumps the ball back over the net, and it flies into the air. _“I can’t lose you.”_ He’s sounds... sad. But what nice words to hear, Oikawa thinks.

Something tickles the back of his mind. The ball falls to his side, a soft _thump_ as it hits the sand, bouncing twice before rolling to the end of the hallway in their apartment. Iwaizumi is facing him, but Oikawa doesn’t look up to meet his eyes.

 _“So, that’s why I don’t really want to go,”_ Oikawa admits. He moves the duffel bag on his shoulder.

 _“Stay with me,”_ Iwaizumi says, voice quiet but close by.

 _“I can’t. But, it isn’t goodbye forever. You said that before.”_ The thin white petals taste bitter on his tongue, and the chrysanthemums are forming a thick white carpet in the hallway. _“I don't want to forget about you. Don't… don’t forget about me, alright?”_

 _“Stay with me, Oikawa,”_ Iwaizumi repeats, voice echoing off the walls.

Oikawa laughs. _“You’re supposed to say Shittykawa, or Trashykawa, or, I don’t know!”_ He feels moisture on his cheeks, but he laughs harder. For every exhale, a cloud of chrysanthemum petals puffs out. His surroundings are blindingly white, drowned in a swirling blizzard of flowers. He can’t see anyone anymore.

_“Please, just stay with me.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: "You should have come to Shiratorizawa." dun dun dun
> 
> Also, I have some Rambly Thoughts on the Suga/Oikawa dynamic. Basically, the Suga/Oikawa friendship is super useful for fanfics since they both have high EQs. Both of them can fill the "voice on the phone" or "makeover friend" roles so easily! But they don't interact much in canon? So, I always feel awkward writing AUs where they are already friends off the bat. 
> 
> Anybody else here have weird reservations when writing? Like, you know that something is probably not a big deal, but you just get hung up on it and have a hard time putting it down anyway.
> 
> School appearances:  
> Seijoh Advertising  
> Karasuno Animation Studios  
> Nekoma Properties  
> Fuku Hotel Group  
> Johzenji Gaming  
> Shiratorizawa Hospital


	5. Day 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You collapsed yesterday, and you were unable to wake up. This event predicts a far greater risk during the surgery. To mitigate that even a little, moving it earlier would be the best choice.”  
>  “Can I have some time to think about it?”  
> “Yes. The day after tomorrow is the earliest available time. Someone cancelled at the last minute.”  
> “But don’t be alarmed! They didn’t die!” the nurse brightly interjects. “It was the good kind of cancelled! They rode off into the sunset together.” _  
> In which Oikawa wakes up in a hospital bed, so running away is really not an option. And also, the doctor may be competent, but he is still stupid.

Oikawa blinks awake in the sunlight. _Oh no, how late is it?_

He flails his arms to the left, where his phone should be charging and where the alarm should have woken him up—

And he feels a small sting as the IV needle taped to his hand threatens to pull out.

He tries to sit up as he takes in his surroundings. Clean, sterilized sheets. A thin curtain to his right. A machine on a stand, replete with knobs and dials and ominous-looking monitors.

Did he already have the surgery done? He immediately looks down, using his other hand to pat his chest. He doesn’t feel like he's been opened up. 

As soon as he thinks this, he feels the familiar pressure within his ribcage. Ah. It’s still here.

Just for fun ( _fun_ ), he deliberately thinks about Iwaizumi. Memories of flimsy high school desks, the snap of a volleyball spiked across the court, the rowdy atmosphere of a pub after work. It’s all there, still—together with arms wrapping him in a warm embrace, a dull pulse of jealousy humming in the back of his mind, and old dreams that he thought he had managed to forget. 

Oikawa blushes hotly, only noticing the nurse as he arrives at his bedside.

“Olololo~ You’re awake?” The nurse grins down on him, a smile stretching eerily across his face. “I’ll call in Dr. Wakatoshi soon. And after that, visiting hours, if you’re lucky.”

Oikawa watches the nurse as he saunters out of the room. Soon, a man in a white lab coat walks in with a clipboard, and he looks like—

“Ushiwaka?” Oikawa asks incredulously. “Is that you—” He finds himself coughing, unable to finish the sentence.

The doctor moves next to him quickly, supporting his back and helping him sit up. Oikawa slaps his hands away and moves himself.

“Oikawa. It was a surprise to see you admitted to this hospital.”

“Gotta say, I’m the surprised one— _cough_ —so how are you doing these days? _cough—_ Still playing volleyball? ”

Ushijima gives him a stern look, not so different from his default expression. “I think I should be the one asking questions right now.” He pulls out his stethoscope and places the end on Oikawa’s chest. “Breathe deeply in and out for me.”

Oikawa does so, giving a leer. It is perhaps less intimidating with the stray petals hanging on his lips. And the nightgown. And the hospitalization. 

Ushijima runs a few more tests, and Oikawa complies, albeit reluctantly. “You’re near the last stage of Hanahaki. We should run x-rays today, Tendou,” he says to the nurse. He looks down thoughtfully at the clipboard, then turns to Oikawa. “In fact, I recommend you move the surgery forward.”

Oikawa looks at him dumbly. “Wait, how long was I out?”

“Only sixteen hours or so!” The red-haired nurse is back, and he’s practically singing this at Oikawa as he moves around. He hands Oikawa tissues to clean up the flowers.

“Then I have, what, only a week left before the surgery? Why do I need to move it up?”

Ushijima looks down at him critically. “To be honest, your body is in better condition than many of the Hanahaki patients we see. Your athletic lifestyle, I assume.” Oikawa swears he hears disdain in his tone, but Ushijima continues. “But you collapsed yesterday, and you were unable to wake up. This event predicts a far greater risk during the surgery. To mitigate that even a little, moving it earlier would be the best choice.”

Oikawa feels himself deflate a little. He remembers the events of the night he lost consciousness. He hadn’t managed to say anything to Iwaizumi, after all. Oikawa sighs before answering.

“Can I have some time to think about it?”

“Yes.” God, was this guy terse. “The day after tomorrow is the earliest available slot. Someone cancelled at the last minute.” 

“But don’t be alarmed! They didn’t die!” Tendou brightly interjects. “It was the good kind of cancelled! They rode off into the sunset together~” he lilts as he flourishes with his hands.

Oikawa stares at him unbelievingly. 

“In the meantime, you have a guest. It is early for visit hours, but I’ll make an exception. You are the only patient in this room right now.”

Before he can respond, the doctor and nurse sweep out of the room. Oikawa decides to feel relieved that he doesn’t have to talk with them any more.

The relief is immediately buffeted away when he sees Iwaizumi walk in and gingerly take a seat at the bedside.

A moment passes as Oikawa looks at him out of the corner of his eye. He can see the furrowed brow and angry set to his jaw. He wonders if Iwaizumi saw anything? Were there any petals on the bed right now? Can he talk his way out of this—

His train of thought is interrupted as Iwaizumi engulfs him in a tight hug. Oikawa inhales sharply—taking in the familiar scent of their shared laundry detergent—before relaxing and hugging him back, tapping him lightly on the shoulder.

“Aww, Iwa-chan, I missed you too~”

Iwaizumi immediately snaps back. “What’s been going on? Why did you collapse?”

Ah, such familiar scolding. But more importantly, it seems like he hasn’t seen the flowers. 

Oikawa gives a gentle smile. “Thanks for worrying. It was the usual— _cough._ ” He tries to suppress the itch. “A bit of lack of sleep, a bit of a cold, a bit of exhaustion. Seems like it overwhelmed me!”

Iwaizumi’s face looks stormy now. “What are you talking about, Shittykawa? You’ve been weird for weeks now, and all you give me is ‘Oops, just a regular cold.’ I don’t buy your bullshit. What are you hi—” He stops himself mid-sentence.

Iwaizumi pulls himself back and sinks into the chair. When it’s clear he doesn’t want to finish his questioning, Oikawa eyes him curiously.

“What? Iwa-chan, I’m the one in the hospital bed, but you’re looking worse than me.” A pressure at the back of his throat, again. He grabs a clean tissue just in case.

Iwaizumi still refuses to make eye contact. Instead, he reaches below the chair and pulls out a thermos, a paper plate, and a bag of apples from a backpack.

“No, I'm not. You can eat, right?”

“Iwa-chan—”

“I asked the doctor before I came in. He said you could have fruit,” he mutters, now furiously cutting the peel off an apple in a neat spiral. 

“Oh, Ushiwaka-chan! You remember, right? From our _favourite_ matches back in the day. God what an annoying guy to play—”

The plate lands on his lap, two peeled apple slices already on it as Iwaizumi works on a third and fourth. 

“Eat.” Iwaizumi is still looking down as he cuts the fruit.

Oikawa contemplates the apple slices. They look good, and now that he thinks about it, he is hungry. He bites into the first piece—juicy and crisp. He’s munching on the second when he feels the lump in his throat. 

He barely swallows the apple down, but now of all times, he needs to cough.

Iwaizumi seems occupied with cutting a second apple at this point, so Oikawa leans over to the other side of the bed to try to cough into the tissue, quietly. 

Or not, as the cough shakes his whole body, echoing through the room. He sees Iwaizumi start in his peripheral vision, but he throws out his hand to stop him from getting closer. He coughs several times, seeing a few near-bloomed buds appear in the tissue. He heaves in a shuddering breath and discreetly tucks the tissue at his side. Not the most hygienic choice, but the wastebasket is on Iwaizumi’s side of the bed.

“Ah, wow, wonder if there’s allergies or something, too,” he comments, reaching for the next apple slice. The lump is still in his throat, barely relieved. 

_Think about it._ If he wants to keep hiding the flowers, he’ll need to kick Iwaizumi out for now.

( _You need to give yourself that chance_ ). Ugh, well, he can talk to Iwaizumi again after he’s released. Probably. Just not right now.

“Ahem. Yeah, anyway, I guess I’m not back to full health or anything yet. Well, I mean, thanks for the fruit. I’m glad you came, bu~ut, I think I need to rest, and you should probably go? Are you supposed to be at work, or…” Oikawa drifts off as Iwaizumi finally looks at him, locking eyes.

“Why—” Iwaizumi takes a deep breath and starts again. “Why are you pushing me away?”

“Oh, I’m not! I’m just a little sleepy—”

Iwaizumi looks hurt, almost. But he keeps pushing onwards. “No. You… you’re hiding something from me. And that’s fine!” He breaks eye contact now. “I get it. You don’t have to tell me everything. We’re not attached at the hip.

“But you’ve been drifting away. I’m worried. And you… you’d rather push yourself to the point of collapse than talk to me. I don’t know what’s eating at you but… I hate that I somehow lost your trust.” He’s turned away now, and his ears are a little red. “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

The words sound sad and soft, almost familiar. Oikawa lets himself feel a little flutter in his heart. He deserves this much, since he’ll be giving these feelings up in a few days anyway. 

But the pressure in his throat reminds him of the ticking countdown. “Don’t worry, Iwa-chan. I trust you. It’s… just a respiratory thing. Dr. Ushiwaka-chan said I’ll be better soon.” Too soon, really. 

Iwaizumi suddenly glares at him, anger renewed. Oikawa starts backwards a little, apples tipping but not falling off his lap as Iwaizumi grabs his shoulders.

“It’s not just this! I don’t know what you’re doing to wreck your body, but you haven’t changed since you were a snotty-nosed brat in grade school! I can feed you cold medicine and force you to sleep before 3 am and cut you apples, but you! You don’t want me to!” 

“Iwa-chan—I—”

“I saw the apartment listings on your laptop, okay?” Iwaizumi practically shouts. He seems to catch himself, and he lowers his volume. “I just don’t know. I don’t know what went wrong, alright?”

Now, Iwaizumi looks down, and his grip tightens. “If being near me is that stressful, you should just… punch me or something. Let it out. We’ve fought before, we can make up. I thought we were friends, I thought… I thought you would stay with me.”

Oikawa wants to cry, he really does. It’s unfair that he has to hear Iwaizumi say those things. It’s unfair that Iwaizumi can waltz in at the last minute and accuse him of leaving, when all he wants is to stay. He feels desperation, regret, sorrow, and heartbreak, but the emotions twist into a knot of spite.

It’s unfair, so he gets to be unfair back.

“What~ sounds like a proposal,” he sneers. “Didn’t know you could get so sappy! You’ll never keep a girl if you’re like this.”

Iwaizumi looks as if he was just slapped. Oikawa’s throat is on fire.

“Gotta be careful what you say, Iwa-chan. I don’t think—” he hiccups. “I don’t think you can handle me staying.”

Iwaizumi is still gaping like a fish out of water, but as Oikawa’s last words hang in the air, Iwaizumi reaches a hand out towards Oikawa’s face.

Oikawa flicks his head away. “Just go. You’re—you’re gross.” A lie. “That’s why I don’t want to live with you anymore.” He needs to cough, so badly. “Just _go_ , Iwa-chan!” Oikawa feels the tears tumbling out of the corners of his eyes.

And he feels warm hands cup his cheeks, turning his head. He stubbornly tries to resist—the flower in his throat is rising—

“Oikawa.”

“Leave!” _No, stay._

Iwaizumi doesn’t respond. Oikawa makes the mistake of flicking up his eyes to look at Iwaizumi’s face. He’s close, forehead almost touching Oikawa’s, cheeks dusted pink.

“Stop it. Move!” _I want to kiss him._

“Oikawa. Is that what you really want?”

“Get out!” _I love you, Iwa-chan._

Suddenly Iwaizumi’s hands are gone, and he’s no longer crowding Oikawa’s space. 

Oikawa breathes in a shuddering gulp of air. He still needs to cough, but he also just wants to scream. Is Iwaizumi out of the room yet?

“Really?”

Oikawa snaps his head up as Iwaizumi grabs his hand just as quickly. It takes a few seconds to process that he _must have just said that last one out loud—_

The coughs wrack through his body. First petals, then buds, and finally, a full chrysanthemum bloom—shockingly white against the beige sheets—tumble out of his mouth. 

Oikawa blearily registers that it was actually kind of pretty, despite where it just came from, when two hands appear at his ears again.

The apples fall from his lap to the ground as the hands clumsily pull his face forward.

Into Iwaizumi’s face.

What?

_A kiss._

What?

 _A kiss_ , snaps a small part of his brain, oddly lucid and sounding vaguely like Suga.

He doesn’t close his eyes in time, and he sees Iwaizumi pulling away, heavy-lidded and lips reddened from the sudden impact.

“What?” he manages, aloud this time.

Iwaizumi’s eyes focus slowly, and his cheeks gently shade red. After a few seconds, he jerks into attention.

“You said… I meant… you…” Iwaizumi's eyebrows furrow, and his cheeks become much redder. “Were you joking?”

“Was I…” 

“I wasn’t joking. I meant that, just now. I... love you, Tooru.” 

Oikawa can barely breathe, head still spinning from the last few seconds. His hands touch something soft—the chrysanthemum—and he blinks a few times.

“You… just kissed a sick person.”

Iwaizumi leans back stiffly.

“Yeah—yeah, um. I… oh god. I’m—I’m sorry, that was… you can forget—crap.” He’s muttering lowly, almost to himself. “I’ll go, right now. Here, just—” He begins picking up the fallen apple slices and the plate, and he starts shoveling them into the wastebasket before roughly grabbing his open backpack from under the chair.

“Iwa-chan.” Oikawa cups the flower gently in his hands.

Iwaizumi freezes, and turns around. 

His eyes are wide, colour high on his cheeks. Iwaizumi had said that he meant it. He kissed him.

“I love you, too.” The tears are streaming down Oikawa’s eyes now, a sob about to break. “I always have.”

Iwaizumi drops the backpack. Oikawa barely hears the dull metal _thunk_ of the thermos hitting the ground before he’s buried in a faceful of prickly hedgehog hair. He lets the sob escape his throat. The tears stain Iwaizumi’s dress shirt, and a little snot too gets in there too, but they stay in the embrace.

Oikawa gives in to the heaving sobs. The pressure in his chest disappears a little for each one, and when they finally disentangle, he feels lighter than he has for weeks. Years, even.

Iwaizumi returns to sitting in the bedside chair, red in the face but eyes glowing with happiness. Oikawa suspects he looks the same. 

He lets out a giggle, now, leaning back onto the headboard of the bed. He sighs, then looks back towards Iwaizumi. 

“Iwa-chan.”

“Yeah?”

“ _My_ Iwa-chan.”

A blush. How adorable. “That’s right.”

Oikawa laughs again. He reaches around the bed and spots the white flower. He holds it in his lap, motioning for Iwaizumi to scoot closer to have a look.

“I have a story to tell you. About me, and a plan I had.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's the last (main) chapter!
> 
> Next time: smol epilogue
> 
> Thanks for coming along for the ride. I'm super grateful for anyone who read the work, wrote a comment or left a kudos! It makes me very happy to see anyone enjoying my writing enough to sit through reading up to this point <3 It was lots of fun writing this story and watching the characters come to life!
> 
> Also: anybody have their own ideas for Big Corp Haikyuu schools? I always thought Dateko Bank would be cool. Unbreakable iron vaults and all!
> 
> School appearances:  
> Seijoh Advertising  
> Karasuno Animation Studios  
> Nekoma Properties  
> Fuku Hotel Group  
> Johzenji Gaming  
> Shiratorizawa Hospital


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are many things to celebrate.

“You _pressed_ it?” Hinata exclaims, screwing up his nose.

In the past few weeks working together, Oikawa has learned that Hinata is every bit the ball of sunshine that his coworkers, and even his name, label him to be. But even the happy-go-lucky little kid wasn’t eager about the idea of spit-soaked floral memorabilia.

“Chibi-chan, don’t you start. I’ve seen you snort udon up your nose,” Oikawa replies. 

“Don’t be gross. Our food is arriving.” Iwaizumi scolds flatly as he pushes some dishes around, making room for the new plates arriving to their table.

“It’s not me you should be scolding,” Oikawa sniffs. “It was Ushiwaka-chan’s idea. He said they use a special... sanitizing preservative solution?”

“And then you stuffed it into a book. Then framed it?” Kageyama asks curiously, eyeing the plates of meat ready to be barbecued.

“Stop it, you two,” Suga interjects. “It’s a meaningful gesture. Every couple is…” He drifts off as he sees Hinata and Kageyama, mirrored postures, chopsticks ready to strike as if waiting for the gunshot to start a race. “Every couple is different,” he finishes, a little tiredly. Daichi chuckles from his side.

“Fine! Fine,” Oikawa relents, throwing his hands in the air. “Actually, I think it’s pretty weird, too. But it’s actually a pretty common service? I don’t know! It’s less gross in the frame.”

“I think it’s pretty,” Iwaizumi states simply as he eyes the specials menu. Oikawa barely has time to look over in surprise before a loud voice calls over from the front door.

“Hey, hey, hey!” booms one of the newcomers. Daichi waves them over. The quieter of the two sits down gently next to Oikawa, and other crowds into the opposite side of the table.

“Bokuto!” exclaims Suga. “We weren’t sure if you could make it!”

“Haha! I have time in the evenings to go out for a drink with old friends. It’s Akaashi here you have to schedule months in advance.”

Akaashi calmly picks up the menu that Daichi hands him. “You could afford to take your job as the next company president more seriously, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto only laughs. “I am, though! I’m dependable, and so are my VPs!” He grins at Akaashi.

“Woaah, the president of Fuku Hotel Group?” Hinata is leaning over from the other end of the table, eyes wide and glittering. 

“Oya oya? Who’s this?”

As Bokuto and the others make their introductions, Oikawa slings an arm around Akaashi’s shoulder. “Thanks again for the pool booking the other day. You really saved me there.”

Akaashi nods, fiddling with his right pinky as he finishes reading the menu. He selects two drinks. “Not at all. I only wish I could have enjoyed the day with you all as well.”

Suga laughs. “Well, you’re here now! And,” he says, ducking under Bokuto and Hinata high-fiving across the table, “you’ve clearly got your hands full, so who can blame you?”

Akaashi smiles a little at this. “That’s true. It’s impressive that we've gathered four of our old… setter squad? As you call it?” He looks around. “I thought Kenma was coming, too?”

Hinata perks up at the mention of a familiar name. “He and Kuroo are running late today. He sent me this just now,” he explains, pulling out his phone to wave around a picture of a small calico cat in a box.

Everyone settles back into their seats as the last dish, a huge platter filled with layered cuts of beef and pork, is placed carefully onto the table. The last drinks arrive as well, and everyone grabs hold of a beverage of their choice.

“Excellent!” Daichi says, clapping his hands. “Before we eat, I want to take a moment to appreciate how lucky we are to be able to meet up—ow!”

Suga grins after hitting the top of Daichi’s head with a neat karate chop. “You’re not even a setter, Daichi! Stop being sappy. We’re all super glad to be here!”

“Ossu!” the people at the table cheer.

“It is awesome to be able to keep in touch after university, to still play volleyball, blah blah—but I think,” Suga zeros in on Oikawa and Iwaizumi sitting next to each other across the table, “we have something more recent to celebrate.”

Oikawa gasps as the attention swings to him. “What, me? Well.” He smiles sweetly, setting down his chopsticks. “If it’s a story you want, I can start at the ve-ery beginning—”

“Oikawa was a drama queen, and despite it all, we got together,” Iwaizumi cuts in. “We’re very happy, and we thank you for your support.” He bows towards the table, forcing Oikawa’s head down with his hand as well.

When Oikawa lifts his head up, he can see the grins on the faces around him. Even Akaashi is giving something of a knowing smile amid cheers of “Good work!” and “About time!” and “Wait, what's going on with— _ow_ ”, then “Just enjoy it, Kageyama-kun!”

“Let’s drink to that!” Bokuto shouts, lifting his mug high above the table. “To the happy couple!” 

“To your health!” Suga beams.

Oikawa reaches out to grab Iwaizumi's hand under the table, other hand lifting his own mug for a toast. His smile grows even wider as he feels Iwaizumi squeeze his fingers back.

“To good friends, and to forever!” he cheers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so! We're at the end end now, and I just want to ramble lol
> 
>   * I'm so sorry MatsuHana I couldn't fit you in at the end and I probably could have tried harder but no I just wanted pretty setter squad and their +1s 
>   * Wow I'm impressed by how tropey some of these pairings are like... company pres bokuto and VP akaashi i live for it ;) and also i have no idea what is going on with shiratorizawa shipping but like... doctor and nurse? hm hm? *eyebrow wiggle*
>   * and kagehina went from athletes to nerds so like... eh whatever little giant did it y'all can do it too
>   * re: kagehina? I love writing about them but like?? whenever they're not the main couple they somehow end up so juvenile that it's hard to ship them??? I mean it makes sense that they're childish but idk I love me some cute plot B ships and kagehina are just makin it hard for meee
> 

> 
> I originally wanted to write a quick oneshot to sort of get a feel for writing, but I somehow got pulled along by my own story. Once I started building up the companies I got kind of excited. Like, imagine this universe just has various romance/fanfic mechanics sprinkled about randomly. A prequel with daisuga struggling with soulmate marks! Kenma turned into a cat for some reason wtf?? now kuroo has to take care of him! Or a sequel where Akaashi fiddling with his finger is because he can see the red string of fate there, but ??? what's he gonna do about it who knowssss-- this whole thing reeks of lack of originality but it makes my fanfic-loving heart happy <3  
> 
> 
> School appearances:  
> Seijoh Advertising  
> Karasuno Animation Studios  
> Nekoma Properties  
> Fuku Hotel Group  
> Johzenji Gaming  
> Shiratorizawa Hospital


End file.
